Coverdale(i)
13 Offre me no mo oblacions, for it is but lost laboure. I abhorre youre incense. I maye not awaye with youre newmoones, youre Sabbathes and solempne dayes. Youre fastinges are also in vayne.
14 I hate youre new holy dayes and fastinges, euen fro my very harte. They make me weery, I can not abyde them.
15 Though ye holde out yor hondes, yet turne I myne eyes from you. And though ye make many prayers, yet heare I nothinge at all, for youre hondes are full of bloude.